


Nobody Knows How The Story Ends

by Helen8462



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fortune Cookies, Friendship, Loss, Love, Moving On
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-06 01:39:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13400751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helen8462/pseuds/Helen8462
Summary: One person knows what Afsaneh's been through.  One person has seen it all.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [R_S_B](https://archiveofourown.org/users/R_S_B/gifts).



> This story is for another wonderful fandom author, R_S_B. She and a few others have masterfully given life to Commodore/Captain Afsaneh Paris, and weaved her into the Discovery universe so thoroughly that I’d swear I’ve actually seen her on the screen. For consistency, I have used RSB's headcanons as well as those of the Tumblr @currentlycaptainparis blog, and the previous Paris/Georgiou fics.  
> The style of this story was inspired from one of my all-time favorites ["Contrition" ](http://www.oocities.org/area51/4695/contrition.html)by Michele Masterson.  
> Song lyrics and further insp from ["Nobody Knows"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6q5Zn_ZkehM) by the Lumineers.  
> All my love and thanks, as usual, to my fab beta, MiaCooper, who knows I say I don't want to write those... things. And then I do anyway 'cause it's my guilty pleasure.

_Nobody knows how to say goodbye_  
_It seems so easy 'til you try_  
_Then the moment's passed you by_  
_Nobody knows how to say goodbye_

=/\=

It took me a full seventy-two hours to contact Afsaneh. 

An unforgivable amount of time.

Through, in my defense, Starfleet’s situation spiraled out of control rather quickly.  One minute I was eating a banana muffin, idly discussing the next wave of cadet appointments with my aide, and the next our entire quadrant had been turned on its head.  

Certainly she would have understood my delay.

This is not to make it sound like I’d forgotten about Afsaneh.  I wasn’t ignorant, even if I was hesitant, and she remained at the forefront of my thoughts.  How did she find out?  Was she alone?  Did she even have a moment yet to herself to grieve?  

Thinking about her made my chest ache.  And thinking about Philippa… well.  I couldn’t even begin to address my own sorrow yet, not with so much work to do.

Regardless, Afsaneh deserved my attention, at the very least my condolences.  But how was I supposed to remain objective as a leader while being so reminded that the ships I commanded contained the people that I loved the most?  If I dipped below the surface of my Starfleet training, even just briefly, I was certain that I’d never be able to surface again.

For three days, the ghost of Philippa, and the one she left behind, haunted me.  I barely had time to sleep, catching twenty minutes here or there in my office, all of them guilt ridden.  A few times I actually worked up the nerve to place the com, only to have another report come flying down the hall by way of disheveled ensign.  Then I’d be shuttled into another conference room to maneuver holographic ships around a map of the quadrant for hours on end, drink another pot of coffee dry, and push off what really mattered.

Unconscionable.

It wasn’t until I was settled into my temporary quarters on the _Hudson_ , headed for what was once the border of Federation space, that I finally sat down to open a line with Deep Space K-6.  And though I’m loathe to admit it, the only thing that pushed me to follow through was that I had to relay a change in orders.  It was then that I felt truly ashamed.

With my fingers on the console, I thought back to the last time I had spoken with Afsaneh.  Those had been happier times indeed.

* * *

_“Afrand is doing well, working hard and settling in,” Afsaneh said with the kind of pride only a mother could wear so transparently._

_“As if there was any doubt.  I told you not to worry,” I said.  “I assume he’s being challenged by Captain Nichols?  I know Jeramiah runs a tight ship.”_

_“So I’ve heard,” she laughed.  “Apparently my son was called out for misplacing a toolbox during his first week.  To hear him tell it, you’d think the captain had caught him attempting mutiny.”_

_I leaned back in my chair and took a sip from my chardonnay.  “And Pippa?  How’s your better half?”_

_Afsaneh wagged her head back and forth.  “She’s gone off on some nonsense about retiring again.  To be honest, I’ve stopped listening to her.  That woman is just as likely to give up command as I am, which is not at all.  I swear it will be a miracle if we ever end up living together.”_

_“Mm…” I hummed into my wine glass, trying to temper a know-it-all smile._

_I’ve always loved being in the business of keeping secrets.  I’d honed my skills as a perceptive sibling, extorting candy from my naughty sisters.  And now, holding the position of admiral afforded me the chance to be privy on a rather regular basis, though usually not with information directly affecting my friends._

_With Afsaneh though, I had to be careful.  She could always see right through me, and the fact was that Pippa really did want to step down from the center seat.  Her plans were almost finalized, but I didn’t want to spoil the surprise.  Just to be safe, I changed the subject._

_“I heard the_ Buran  _was in your neighborhood.”_

_Afsaneh snorted.  “Ah, yes.  Gabriel was barely on my station an hour before the complaints started coming in.  Is that man satisfied with nothing?”_

_“He’s usually pretty happy with himself,” I countered, putting my feet up to rest on my desk._

_“We had lunch while he was here.  I really don’t know why he goes out of his way to spend time with me.  It has to be fairly clear that I’m not his biggest fan.”_

_I shrugged.  “Gabriel likes a challenge, Affie.  You’re one of the few people he can’t consistently get his bullshit by.  He’s probably testing out new strategies.”_

_“He also likes to press me for information about you.”_

_“Of course he does. I’m an even bigger challenge,” I smirked.  “Did he leave you with –“_

_“Oh yes, a whole bag.” She disappeared from view for a moment then reappeared with a fortune cookie in each hand.  “You pick.”_

_I tapped my chin in careful thought, then pointed to her left hand.  She cracked it open and read: “You make good decisions.”_

_“Ha!  I guess that’s why Starfleet promoted me and not you, Gabe,” I joked.  “Your turn.”_

_She broke the other one, but as she read the slip inside, her smile quickly faded._

_“What does it say?” I prodded.  She turned the fortune around for me to see.  I removed my feet from my desk and leaned in._

_“’Your happiest days are behind you.’ Well.  That’s a depressing thought.”_

_Afsaneh’s expression changed back to a light smile.  “Fortunately, we make our own happiness, it doesn’t come from biscuits,” she retorted.  And she popped the cookie into her mouth._

* * *

Cursed fortune.  Fucking cookie. 

_Offer your condolences.  Tell her that you’re here, and that you care.  Find out how she’s doing, Katrina.  You can do this._

My hand brushed the ‘Open Channel’ key and I made myself square.

What felt like an eternity later, the console beeped acceptance.

“Admiral,” I saw Afsaneh say the word, though the voice sounded barely like hers.  She had dark circles under her eyes, her cheeks were swollen and her lips, parched.

“Commodore,” I said, deflating.  And then inside, small parts of me began to fall apart.  “Affie.  I…”

She shook her head.  “I can’t, Katrina.  Please.”

“I don’t know what to say.”  I looked to my hands.  Everything I had rehearsed went right out the airlock.  “I’m sorry.  I’m so, so sorry.”

I heard her swallow and looked up.  She was simply shaking her head.  “I was told…” she began, but her voice was choked.  She took a moment and cleared her throat.  “I was told that I’d be receiving new orders.”

I nodded.  “Yes.”  If she wanted to talk shop, I’d follow her lead.  “We’re launching a few ships ahead of schedule, for obvious reasons.  You’ll be taking command of the _U.S.S. Dana._   She’s being put through an abbreviated series of paces and will be to K-6 in five days.”

“Good.  That will give me time to pack.”

I didn’t want to ask, but I had to.  “Are you sure you’re going to be up for this?”

“I will do my duty,” she told me without hesitation.  I felt suddenly guilty for having second-guessed her abilities.

“My aide will transfer the rest of your orders shortly.”  She looked past the screen, to a window perhaps, trying to find some center.  In that moment I wanted nothing more than to reach through the screen and pull her close.  “Afsaneh.”

“I’m going to need the whole story, Katrina,” she said softly.  “Everything.  Right now, I only know…”

“That she’s gone.”

She nodded.  Her eyes grew shiny and she turned away.

“I’ll see that you get what you need.”

She ended the com before I could offer anything else. 

I didn’t sleep at all that night.


	2. Chapter 2

_Nobody knows how to get back home_  
_And we set out so long ago_  
 _Search the heavens and the Earth below_  
 _Nobody knows how to get back home_

=/\=

After that first conversation, I made a better effort to stay in contact.  Regardless of how busy I was directing traffic, I made it my personal mission to see that Afsaneh had someone she could talk to.  Eighty-two hundred people were dead, and the tally continued to grow with each passing day.  Every one of them had grieving friends and families.  I couldn’t be there for them all, but I could be there for her.

She denied my subsequent personal coms, but I didn’t take offense.  She simply wasn’t ready to talk yet.  Instead, we exchanged short notes a few times a week.  They started out as a way for me to be sure she was holding up okay, but it became quickly apparent that she was more concerned for my well-being near the front lines.  So I let her know that I was safe and thinking of her.  I hoped it was enough.

On the morning of the one-month anniversary of Pippa’s death, the _Buran_ was reported as lost with all hands.

Afsaneh probably didn’t even take the time to read the entire report before she called me.

“Katrina,” she gasped as soon as the line to my office was open.  I’m sure that my face betrayed the same tiredness I had seen in hers a month before.  “Where are you?”

“Still on the _Hudson,”_ I told her.  “We’re headed for the…”  I couldn’t even get the name out.  “To see what’s left.”

“Is there any chance?” she asked, as if she were pleading me.  “Could he still be alive?”

I shook my head.  “I don’t know.  I’m sure you heard the distress call.  And that the self-destruct beacon had been activated.”

“Life pods?”

I shook my head again.  We’d been scanning on every frequency and yet, there were no other signals to be found.  It was bad.  I knew in my gut they were all gone.

“How many more?” she whispered.  “How many more of us will they take?”  Her bottom lip was caught between her teeth.

“I don’t know, Affie.” I scrubbed my face in my hands.  “I just… I can’t until I have more information.”  I realized then that I sounded exactly as she had a month before.

It was rude of me, but I couldn’t think about Gabriel, or the ship and crew he loved any more than I already had.  Instead, I did probably the worst thing I could possibly do. 

“I’m glad that you called me though.  How are you?  And I don’t mean ‘how is the _Dana?’”_ I clarified.  “How are you doing?  Without Pippa?” 

It was a selfish question.  But I needed to know that there was life after a loss like the one I was about to suffer.  Gabriel and I may not have been made for each other the way that Pippa and Affie were, but he was the most important person in my life. 

Her face betrayed no emotion.  I remember thinking she looked as if she had completely detached herself from the situation, just as I was trying to do. 

“I don’t think about her,” she said, matter-of-factly.  “I wouldn’t be able to do my job if I did.”

“Afsaneh.  If command is too much for you right now –“

“It’s not.  My ship is fine.  We’re doing our duty.  There will be time, later.  Provided we survive.  But Kat…” she trailed off and looked to her hands.  I gave her a moment.

“If something happens to you too, I just…” she shook her head.  “Please.  Please, stay safe.”

* * *

I thought about Afsaneh more than anyone else while I was in captivity.

Don’t get me wrong, I thought about Pippa, too.  I made my peace with her death while I was there, trying to come to terms with my own mortality.  I was simultaneously grateful that I hadn’t immediately ended up like she did, and that she was spared the tortures I endured.

And of course, I reflected on the situation with Gabriel.  Oh, he left me with a great many things to worry about.

But mostly my mind was on dear Affie.  She had made such strides in the months directly preceding my capture.  As the one-year anniversary approached, she was actually starting to talk about Philippa again, beginning to accept what her life would be now, without the woman she loved most.  Though she shied away from more recent events, we had shared fond memories of academy hijinks just days before I left for that sham of a peace conference on Cancri IV.

Each time we said goodbye, Afsaneh would practically beg me to keep myself safe.  I felt like I had failed her in that respect.  

When I finally came to after surgery on Starbase 46, she was the first person I called, even before my own mother.

“I thought you were with Philippa,” she said, over and over again as if it were some kind of mantra - though I wasn’t sure if she was afraid for that possibility or relieved by it.  Then she tried to press me for details, perhaps she wanted reassurance that I hadn’t suffered too badly.  The truth was, of course, that I had.  The events were still too raw and all I could do was assure her that I was alive and getting help.

It was then I had the unhappy task of relaying the other information which had been revealed regarding her beloved, though I spared her the details.  She seemed to gather some comfort knowing that Michael Burnham had retrieved Philippa’s insignia.  She seemed sure that Philippa would have been pleased.

Before we closed the line, she told me that if I should see Michael again, to relay her forgiveness. 

It was a brave thing to offer.  She was finally beginning to heal.

* * *

Recovery sucked.

I was grateful to be alive, don’t get me wrong.  But little tiny bits of progress, punctuated by the canned congratulations of a physical therapist who was really just placating a superior officer …

Fuck. 

It was the depression talking, but there were times I wished I had just died inside that flying tomb.

More than anything I wanted my mobility back and I wanted to move on with finishing this war so I could live a decent life again.

Unfortunately, getting better – and ending the war – wouldn’t happen on wishes alone.  And so, for what seemed like an eternity – but was actually only about six weeks – I struggled with my physical demons while trying to also reconcile emotional ones.  Being held in Klingon captivity had been hard enough, and now, here I was being held in friendly captivity.  To be honest, I wasn’t sure which I hated more.

Most of my time was spent bored to tears, or physically stretched to tears, inside a private room on Starbase 46.  I was sick and tired of reading reports and commenting on decisions like a second-rate, afterthought commander. 

I was angry by day, grief-ridden by night over a great many things, mostly, Gabriel’s actions before my capture.  That _Discovery_ still hadn’t been found weighed heavily on my mind.  On the front lines our officers were dying and the means to save them had been so close.

I felt helpless.  Restless.  Betrayed.

It was in my fourth week of aforementioned prescribed torture when a chime alerted in my quarters.

“You’re early,” I groaned to the back of the door.  “Therapy isn’t for another thirty-two minutes.”

The door chimed again. 

“Come in,” I resigned.  My book hit the end table with a thud.

“Hello friend,” Afsaneh said warmly, striding into my quarters.  She was a veritable ray of sunshine in the torrential downpour of my existence.

“I hope that you don’t mind my stopping by. The _Dana_ just docked and I wanted to visit while I have time. I brought tea, whiskey, and wine,” she gestured to the bag slung over her shoulder. “So whatever you are feeling.”

I couldn’t help the wide grin that appeared instantly on my face.  “I’m feeling like I could kiss you, Affie!” I wished I could have sprung from my seat to greet her, but my legs so rudely reminded me that I was incapable of such an act.

Instead, I pushed myself upward from the chair with a groan and went for my crutches. 

“Please,” Afsaneh said, rushing closer.  “Don’t get up on my account.”

“I need to move,” I said.  It was true, I’d been sitting far too long and my muscles were once again threatening to atrophy.  “How long are you here?”

She sat her bag on the table and came to give me a warm hug.  “A couple of days.  My CMO informs me that I need to take a break.”

“I know all too well about forced rest,” I said, motioning to the couch.  “We can suffer together.”  Then I hobbled to join her.  As much as I wanted to immediately ask how she was holding up, the edict from her CMO told me all I needed to know.

She stood in front of me for a moment, looking me up and down with a concerned, but warm smile.

“You said you brought refreshments?” I asked, before she could get emotional.

Her expression changed, and a twinkling in her eye flared with just a little bit of mischief.  “Shall I warm up the tea then?”

I laughed.  “Hell, no.  Break out the good stuff.  Your being here is cause for celebration.”

“I wasn’t sure you’d be allowed,” she said, rather sheepishly. “Or that I should tempt you.”

“Doctors be damned.  I want to share a drink with my friend.  I think we’ve both earned it.”  As she went for the bottle and glasses, I tapped out a message informing my therapist that I was taking the rest of the day off and he should contact me before coming in the morning.

“I regret that I wasn’t able to be here when you arrived,” Afsaneh said.  At the table she poured several fingers of amber courage into two glasses.  “If it had been any other circumstance –“

“Please.”  I waved her off.  “I received your notes, even if I’ve been too tired to respond.  I’ve appreciated them more than you can know.”

“When you went missing, I feared the worst,” she said, a grimness returning to her voice.  “I thought for sure –“

“That I’m a survivor.  And I’d make it back just fine,” I finished for her.

She nodded and offered me a weak smile.  “That’s what I tried to think.  I wasn’t sure I could take another loss.”  She gazed down at her hands, wringing them together.  “I know that there have been times in our lives when we weren’t incredibly close… It was often Pippa who kept us in the same circle.  But the thought of losing you too…”

“Philippa didn’t just keep us in the same circle.  She completed our family.”

“I suppose she did,” she looked up at me.  “Gabriel as well, you know.  He’s as much a part of us –“ she shook her head, stumbling a bit over her words.  “That is to say, I’m worried about him, too.”

I was grateful that she spoke of him as if he were still alive, but I wasn’t about to open that can of worms.  “I know.  So am I.”  I took a deep breath.  “But he, and _Discovery_ , have cheated death before.  They’ll do it again,” I reassured us both.

“Well.  Enough of that,” Afsaneh said resolutely.  “Tonight, we speak only of the good times.”

“Agree,” I clinked my glass to hers.  “To the good times.”

* * *

“I didn’t think you liked hard liquor,” I said, refilling Affie’s glass for what was at least the third round.  Her uniform jacket had long been discarded to the end of the couch and we were picking at the last of a plate of appetizers which had served as dinner.

“I don’t,” she chuckled.  “I’ve been toting this bottle around since my divorce.”

“Was this part of the settlement?” I asked, swirling the liquid around my ice cubes.  “Because if so, I’d say ditching Gaspard was definitely worth it.”

“No,” an amused expression crossed her face.  “It was a congratulations present, actually.  From your boyfriend.  Apparently he thinks that ending a life-long commitment is worth celebrating.”

“Gabriel?  He’s not my –“ She raised her eyebrow at me.  “Wait, when were you divorced again?”

“When he was your boyfriend.”

“Wow.”  I picked up the half-empty bottle by the neck and examined the label.  “This has aged so long I’m surprised it’s still drinkable.”

“Mm,” she took a thoughtful sip.  “You know, there are times when I miss Gaspard.  We may not have been a perfect match.  But we could have worked.”

I bit my tongue against the alcohol which threatened to make me say things I would later regret. 

It was Gaspard more than anyone who had kept Affie and Pippa apart.  Theirs should have been a fleeting romance; it was a hasty marriage drawn out far too long, providing her with little more than two children and lost time.  In the wake of those choices, I had been the one who was there for Philippa, unceremoniously dumped as she was.  I was the one who had turned Pippa’s happiness into a pet project, introducing her to her own disaster of a husband.  

I carried quite a bit of unresolved guilt for my own involvement there, and I was angry with Affie for a long time afterwards.  But, now those events were ancient history and not something to dwell on.

I tossed responses around the whiskey-fog a moment then settled on, “I think things ended up the way they should have.”

The moment the words left my lips, I realized I had chosen poorly.

“How?  With me being completely alone?” Everything about her posture and tone screamed that she was itching to argue.

“That’s not what I –“

“No, I know.  But it would have been easier if I had just –”

“No,” I cut her off.  “It wouldn’t have been.  You weren’t in love with Gaspard when you two split.  You fought all the time.  Could it have lasted a bit longer?  Maybe.  But you and I both know he wasn’t who you were meant to be with.”

“Who was I meant to be with, Katrina?” she snapped.  “The person that I never actually got to see?”  Afsaneh was normally so calm and composed, it was frightening to see her this way.  Maybe there was a reason she didn’t drink the hard stuff. 

“I counted, you know,” she continued.  “A few months after she died, I went through the calendars.  We’d spent less than a year’s worth of days physically together.”  She slung back the rest of her drink.  “What were we, really?  A quick note at night?  A video com once a week?  A roll in the sheets a few times a year?  Despite what I want to believe, we were never going to be much more.  I think it’s time I faced facts.”

I took the glass from her shaking hand and set it on the table.  “You were so much more and you know it,” I said.  “You loved her.  And she loved you.”

“But we didn’t love each other enough to make the sacrifices to actually _be_ together.”  The frustration she was obviously fighting to keep down, surfaced again.  “What does that say about us?  There was more dreaming about what we could be than actually realizing it.  And now, it’s too late to even ask if I’ve even lost a real future, or just an imagined one.”

That’s when it hit me.  She didn’t know.

“Wait, wait.  You –“ I stammered.  “She didn’t talk to you about –“  I swallowed, but the residual alcohol was thick as syrup on my tongue. 

I now had a very difficult decision to make, and it wasn’t one I should be making while intoxicated.  On one hand, I had been entrusted with information from my dearly departed friend.  Information which could make things immensely more difficult for my surviving friend.  On the other hand…

I had to tell her.

“Affie,” I began.  I reached forward to take her hand into mine, surprised by how warm her fingers were.  “Philippa was going to give up the center seat.”

I watched her closely while my words sunk in.

“What?”

“She came to me about six months before she... Before the start of the war.  She wanted to lay out a timeline for stepping down.  She felt that Michael Burnham had been adequately prepared to take command.  She wanted –“ the admission halted in my throat.  It felt wrong to be expressing someone else’s love.

“Say it, Katrina.”

“She wanted to get married.”

“What?” she gasped.

“She wanted to settle down with you.  I can’t believe she didn’t talk to you about this.”  I was suddenly mad at Philippa for having put me in this awkward position.

Afsaneh shook her head.  “She had dropped hints but I never thought she was serious.  You knew Pippa, she had grand ideas about everything but how many of them actually pulled together?”

“She was serious, Affie.  I had a job lined up for her at the Academy.  Visiting professor.  It would have only kept her away for three months out of the year.”

“Away from where?”

“From Deep Space K-6.  She was going to stay on as a tactical analyst for Starfleet, performing her duties remotely from your station.”

“That’s… unheard of.”

“I pulled some strings.”

“You made some threats.”  She clarified, knowing me all too well.

I shrugged.  “Po-tay-to, po-tah-to.”

There was a silence that hung in the air while my revelation sunk in.  “You okay?”  I asked after a minute.

“Yes.”  She said the words as if it were an automated response.  I could see a shininess to her eyes.  “I’m just… I’m just thinking, that’s all.  It’s a lot to take in…”  After a heavy breath, she pulled herself straight, attempting to sober from posture alone.  “It’s getting late.  I’m sure you need your rest.  I’ve been intruding far too long.”

“Affie,” I admonished.  “Please, don’t run out.  Do you even have a place to stay?”

“My ship is docked here,” she reminded, gathering her jacket.

“And you’ve been told to take forty-eight hours off.”  I pushed against the arm of my chair and stood on even more wobbly-than-usual legs.  I wouldn’t be able to stop her if she decided to leave, but she didn’t need to know that. 

“I have a spare bunk.  Please, don’t run out tonight.  I’ll just worry about you and won’t get any rest,” I said, pulling a long overdue guilt-trip card.  She looked as if she were firmly cemented on the fence between being my caring friend and wanting to flee toward privacy. 

“I’d like you to stay,” I reaffirmed.  “It’ll be like we’re at the Academy again.  Lord knows we’ve just drank enough for a good reenactment.”

That earned me a very, very small smile.

“You won’t make me eat burnt scrambled eggs from a hotplate in the morning, will you?”

“Only if your snoring keeps me awake.”


	3. Chapter 3

_Through the darkness to the dawn_   
_And when I looked back you were gone_   
_Heard your voice leading me on_   
_Through the darkness to the dawn_

=/\=

“It’s going to be a good day,” Afsaneh said, a proud smile on her face.  “The end to the war.”  She raised her cup of tea as a salute.

“The war is already over,” I reminded her.  I refilled my mug of coffee and leaned back into her dining room chair.  “Now we get to bring the last of our people home.”

“In a way, I feel like I’m doing justice for Pippa by being a part of this final step.  I know that she – and Michael – weren’t the cause of the war.  But I also know that she would have tried to accept responsibility for it.  In this small way, even if we just bring one person to safety today, I’ll feel as if I’ve been given the chance to finish things up for her.”

She reached across the table full of padds and breakfast dishes to touch my hand.  “Thank you for the opportunity, Katrina.  I know you didn’t have to choose the _Dana_ to lead this mission.”

“It’s closure, Affie.  You and I both need that, probably more than most.”

 _“Irev to Captain Paris.”_   A calm, deep voice came over the com. 

“Paris here,” she responded to the air.

_“We’ll be arriving at the Klingon prison planet in a few minutes, ma’am.”_

“Shall we?” Afsaneh gestured to the door. 

“After you.”

* * *

The cave system was dark, with a fetid, sour smell that instantly permeated every fiber of my uniform and every pore on my body.  I heard a few of the officers behind me gag seconds upon materializing. 

 _“GohS,”_ barked our Klingon guide.  He motioned down the corridor, a torch burning in his hand.  

The underground bunker was eerily quiet, save for the sounds of our boots scuffing against the rocky ground.  Adrenaline shot through my veins like ice water.  I was instantly convinced that there would be no one left to rescue, or that we were being led into another trap.  I’d spent so much time convinced that I might not live to see tomorrow, it was nearly impossible to let go of my fears just because a treaty had been signed.

But I knew what we had negotiated with the Klingons.  We had the last of their vessels disabled and surrounded, thousands of their people - civilians and warriors alike - in custody.  Even if they only had one surviving prisoner here, we wanted that person back before handing over our hard-earned collateral.

The air grew cold as we headed down a steep corridor.  We walked in darkness for at least ten minutes, weaving and winding through rough passageways.  Just about the time my legs were starting to cramp, our guide stopped abruptly and pointed at a solid face in the wall.  _“In Pa,”_ he spat.

Apparently we had reached our destination.  He motioned for assistance and two of my strongest officers stepped out from behind.  Together they pushed hard on one part of the false wall.

It scraped open with a metallic squeal, revealing another very narrow entryway.  So narrow, in fact, I wondered how an armored Klingon would even be able to pass through.

Coming from inside, I could see the faintest artificial light and I heard whispered voices.  There was another sound as well, water dripping into puddles.  The air that wafted out was heavy.

“They’re coming,” someone said from the cave.  “What do we do?”

“Stay calm.  Hands on your heads, just like always.  Don’t start anything,” replied another, firm voice.

I put my hand up to stop our rescue squad from proceeding.  Then, I spoke into the hallway. 

“This is Starfleet Admiral Katrina Cornwell.  The war between the Klingon Empire and the United Federation of Planets has ended.  A treaty has been negotiated for your safe release.  You will be taken to a Starfleet vessel, given medical attention, and then returned to your homes.”  There were gasps and whispers, someone was clapping softly.  Others could be heard crying.  There was definitely more than just a handful of people inside.

“We’re coming in now,” I advised.

I had just begun to lead the group toward the passage when I heard a confident, female voice.  “Admiral, wait.  I will greet you.” 

I halted, as did the others behind me.  From the shadows emerged a figure, slender and frail, dressed in the baggy shards of what was once a Starfleet uniform, obvious only by the gold stripe on her tattered trousers. 

As our guide’s torch cast light onto her face, I nearly dropped my own flashlight out of shear surprise.

“ _Philippa_?” I gasped, sure that in the dark my vision was playing tricks.

“You came,” she shook her head.  “I knew you would.”

“How?” I stuttered, searching her up and down.  “How are you still alive?”

I wanted to reach out and hug her, and I’m certain she intended to do the same, but instead she glanced back the way she came.  “I’ll explain later.  Right now, we have wounded, and sick.  I can help you prioritize the evacuation.”

My brain was still oddly paralyzed by shock while I flipped her words around, trying to focus on the mission.  Prioritize?  The Klingon negotiator had informed us of ten, maybe twenty surviving prisoners, but apparently they had misjudged just how resilient their captives would be.  I wished I had brought more than five medics along.

“How many?” I asked her, leading the rescue team forward in her path.

“Two hundred and thirty-seven,” she replied. 

We exited into a large, open space with a high-pitched ceiling.  Figures sat huddled together in near darkness.  Theirs were wasted bodies, skeletons some of them, dirty and wet and scared, but alive.  My beacon scanned the room while I waited for the retrieval team to activate their lanterns to illuminate the rest of the cavern.

What started as a single clap grew to a deafening cacophony of cheers and applause.  I’m not sure I’d ever been so proud in my life as I was to lead that rescue.

I had little time to enjoy the moment, though.  There was so much work to be done that the rest of the afternoon passed as a blur.

* * *

“Cornwell to Captain Paris,” I said to the control panel outside of my temporary quarters.

_“Paris here.  We’re making progress, Admiral, but there’s still a while to go.  What can I do for you?”_

To anyone listening in, Afsaneh would have sounded polite and respectful.  But I could hear annoyance in her tone.  She had work to do.  All available space on her ship was being taxed to accommodate the survivors, and coordinating with our support ships was a full-time job.  She was busy, and she was letting me know that mine wasn’t a welcome intrusion.

“Report to my quarters at once,” I ordered, unwavering.

There was a pause, and I thought for a moment she might question me.

_“Yes.  Of course, Admiral.”_

I don’t think I had ever been so anxious for someone to arrive in my life.

I was pacing, that is to say, actually walking back and forth outside the doors.  I can only imagine what my face must have looked like, shifting between being resolutely stoic and grinning like a fool.  My nervousness was completely unbefitting of a Starfleet officer. 

As I walked, I thought about the incredible woman behind my door.  Philippa had survived against all odds.  Patched up by the Klingons, tortured for information, then thrown in that hellhole to rot.  But she had her faith to get her through, she told me.  And then, there were others to care for, just a handful at first, slowly growing as the war raged on.  She became their impromptu leader, counselor, and caregiver. 

In spite of everything, she never gave up on the Federation’s ability to prevail in the face of such evil.  And she didn’t give up on Afsaneh.

It was on about the twentieth trip up and back that I began to wonder what was taking Affie so damn long.  Didn’t she know the rest of her life was waiting down here?

The door behind me opened and the medic who had been checking over Philippa appeared.  “She’s doing well, Admiral,” the tall, young man informed me.  He handed me a padd with her discharge paperwork.  “With a few days of rest and adequate nutrition… Eventually, she’ll need minor corrective surgery for that chest wound, but otherwise she’ll be just fine.”

I thanked the medic and he was on his way with a nod and a smile.

It was nice to see people smiling again. 

She was alive and well.  My god, she was alive.  That truth just kept ringing in my head.

And I would get to be the one to tell my dear friend.

If she ever showed up.

The _Dana_ wasn’t that large, she must not have dropped everything to report as ordered.  Not surprising.  A bit of pushback was completely in her character, Captain Paris’s way of showing me that the ship and its mission was still hers to command, despite being otherwise outranked.

My hands were clammy, I’d have sworn my heart was actually beating from inside my throat.  But at the center of everything was this overwhelming joy I simply could not contain.  I was positively giddy.  I felt like I was high.

I had my hand on the panel to com the bridge again when I heard decisive footsteps approaching down the hall.  When she turned the corner, Affie looked pissed and absolutely exhausted.

She wouldn’t be either for very long.

I bit back the grin that was threatening to ruin the surprise.  Then my counsellor training kicked in and reminded me that I might want to brace her just a little bit.  Even good news could be terribly anxiety inducing.

“Admiral?” she asked, certainly unsure of why I was waiting for her in the corridor.  “Is there something wrong with your accommodations?” 

“Not at all, Afsaneh,” I said, squaring myself to her. 

She raised an eyebrow at my use of her first name rather than her title.  “Respectfully, what is this about?  I have away teams I’m trying to coordinate on the surface –“

“I know, and your officers can handle it,” I told her in a tone that allowed no further argument.  “There is something far more important waiting in my quarters.  But, before we go in, I want to remind you that I’m here for you, and you should absolutely take as long as you need.  Our mission is almost finished, don’t feel like you have to rush back to the bridge.”

Her brow furrowed and she canted her head to the side.  Before she could question me I reached out and grasped her by the shoulders.  “You were right.  It’s a good day, Affie,” I said, no longer able to contain my smile.  “It’s a very good day.”

I reached to the side, hit the panel and the door slid open.

Now, I knew Afsaneh Paris pretty well.  For shit’s sake, we’d been friends forever.  That, and I’d seen exactly what Philippa’s death had done to her; how hard she had worked for some little, tiny scrap of peace during the last long months. 

I also knew that once she realized that Philippa was alive, she would not be able to stand on her own.  

Ignoring her still questioning glance, I took her by the crook of the arm and we walked side-by-side into the small living room.  The lights remained dim - I imagined many of the prisoners would have trouble adjusting after having lived so long in a cave.  But as we got closer, Philippa’s face, wiped mostly clean of dirt, but still very pale, became visible.

In an instant, Philippa’s smile lit every corner of that room.

Seconds stretched on end.  I swear the whole universe slowed down while we waited for Afsaneh to realize.  Philippa pulled herself stoically upright on the couch, planted her feet on the floor and stood.  

And at that moment, Affie’s legs gave out.

I should have been given a commendation for that foresight.

I supported her descent to the floor until she was safely on her knees.  Her hand covered her mouth and she began shaking, though her eyes never left the woman coming toward us.

“I guess she’s glad to see me,” Philippa quipped, shooting me a sidelong, quirky smile.  It was then I could see tears forming in her own eyes.  She moved as gracefully as I'd remembered and a few strides later, she was on the floor with her beloved.

I’d be lying if I said I held it together. 

The sight of Affie’s hands trembling, reaching out to touch every part of Philippa that she possibly could – her shoulders, her face, she ran her fingers through Philippa’s hair and rested a hand on the center of her chest.  Clearly she was trying to secure a tangible place in this new reality. 

Emotion surged through me again, growing a lump in my throat and despite my best efforts, tears escaped from the corners of my eyes.  Philippa pulled Affie close by way of a hand cupped around the back of her neck until their foreheads touched.  I was certain neither of them could see anymore, hell, I barely could.  The drops running down Affie’s cheeks had started to splatter on her trousers and Philippa’s gown. 

I took a step back to compose myself.  Though I was sorely tempted to watch the entire reunion – I believed I had earned that much – I felt suddenly like a very large, very awkward fly on the wall.  The moment was so powerful, so life changing… But it wasn’t really mine.  And of course there were other matters which would require my attention.

“Yes,” I choked, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand.  “Well.  I’ll be on the bridge to finish up the evacuations.  Please, do take all the time you need.”

Wrapped in each other, silencing sobs and whispering promises, I would have been suprised if either of them heard my words. 

Just before the door closed behind me, I watched their lips meet. 

I don’t think that anyone in the history of time had ever witnessed a more perfect reunion.

I felt very lucky.

* * *

Four hours later, when all of the survivors had been brought aboard and the search parties had finished scouring the prison complex, it was finally time to go home. 

Though I half-expected Captain Paris to appear on her bridge, I was relieved that Afsaneh instead chose to stay by her partner’s side.  Her attention wouldn’t have been on the job, anyway.

I left standing orders for Commander Irev to set a course for Earth once the rest of our small fleet was ready.  Then I retreated to my quarters.  I found them, not unexpectedly, empty.  At some point Philippa and Affie must have moved to more private accommodations.

After such a physically exhausting and emotionally charged day, nothing felt better than the hot water shower I indulged in just a few minutes longer than I normally would.  I was wrapped in my robe - ready for the best night's sleep I'd had in over a year - when there was a chime at my door.

“Come,” I said, pulling the long garment tighter around my body.

Still in her uniform, Afsaneh appeared in the doorway.  She entered, oddly hesitant, and I waved her in with the grin that I had wanted to display when I saw her hours before.

“I’m sorry to…  That is, I hope I didn’t wake you.  I know it’s been a long day and I –“

“Please,” I waved her off.  “I considered stopping by to see how you were doing, but I didn’t want to intrude.  Is Philippa –“

“She’s sleeping,” Afsaneh cut in, then she plopped rather unceremoniously in my overstuffed chair.

“And you?”

“In shock,” she replied automatically.  I sat on the edge of the couch across from her. 

“That’s to be expected.”

“I just keep thinking if I blink or take my eyes off of her for even a second she’s going to disappear.  It took me an hour just to work up the nerve to leave and come see you.”

“She won’t.  But I understand why you’d feel that way.”

“On the other hand, I also feel like I’ve just been through a battle.  I’m queasy and hot.  I feel anxious, and jumpy…” she looked up at me, pain evident in her face.  “I know I’m not making any sense.”

“No, you’re making perfect sense.”

“Why, though?  This is everything I could have dreamed of.  She’s alive, Katrina, half of me is thrilled and the other half wants to run.  I don’t understand.”

“Anxiety and excitement are the same emotion.  Did you know that?”  She shook her head, so I continued.  “They both spring from arousal.  The same chemicals in your brain cause two very different responses.  In the shock of this, you may know, rationally, that you should be overjoyed, but your body thinks you’re being chased by a puma.”

“I guess… yes.  That’s exactly what I’m feeling.  I didn’t realize.”

“Not many people do.  Just remind yourself that you’re safe.  Philippa is safe.  No one is going to take her from you now.  This confusion won’t last forever, just until you’ve adjusted a bit.”

She nodded and met my eyes.  “Thank you.”

“Standard advice,” I countered.

“I didn’t mean just now…”

“I didn’t do much,” I tried waving her off.  Why I wasn’t prepared to take credit for what I knew she wanted to thank me for, I still wasn’t sure.

“Oh, but you did, Kat,” she swallowed hard.  “You were there for me.  Even with all of your own concerns and responsibilities, with your recovery…”

“Affie –“

“No, hear me out.”  She straightened.  “Thank you, Katrina.  For everything.  Thank you for helping me live even though she was gone.  And for bringing her back to me.”

“You’re giving me too much credit.  But I’ll take it nonetheless."  I leaned forward to grasp her hands in my own and gripped them lightly.   "I’m overjoyed for you both.  For all of us.”

After an extended moment she bowed her head and I released her.  “I’ve been away from my bridge for too long.  I gather we’re underway?”

“Yes.  Gamma shift is on duty now, they have things well in hand.  You should get some rest, your chair will be there tomorrow,” I reminded. 

“I’ll just check in and then do that.” 

She reached the doors and then paused before they opened.  “Breakfast?  0730 in my quarters.  If you’d like to join us?”

“Sleep late, Affie,” I told her.  “Let me take your shift.  We’ll switch off and I’ll host Pippa for lunch instead.  I’ve missed her too, you know.  You can’t hog her forever.”

Afsaneh’s smile started with her bottom lip, then crept upward, engulfing her flushed cheeks until it caused her eyes to close and I swore she was going to start to cry again.  I wasn’t sure if she needed a hug, or more verbal reassurance, so I just stood there like an awkward idiot, waiting for some kind of sign. 

That’s when she started to laugh. 

She covered her mouth, though her grin was still visible even behind her loose fingers, and she shook her head, turned, and left my quarters - as a whole person.


	4. Epilogue

_Nobody knows how the story ends_  
_Live the day, doing what you can_  
_This is only where it began_  
_Nobody knows how the story ends_  
  
=/\=

Afsaneh and Philippa were married on the first of May. 

Theirs was a private affair, held along the side of the tidal basin in Washington D.C.  Nature played florist with the cherry trees in full bloom, their delicate petals drifting in the warm breeze, catching in the brides’ hair.

I was half-expecting to have been asked to officiate, but it was their wish that I be able to enjoy the ceremony.  It was a thoughtful sentiment and I appreciated being off-duty for the celebration. 

The seat beside me was empty.  My plus-one hadn’t been able to attend, though he sent me along with a case of finely-wrapped fortune cookies for the reception.  I had spot checked a half-dozen to be sure he didn’t sneak in anything naughty, but each one held a slip that read, ‘ _Love finds a way.’_   Gabriel was a lot of things, and a hopeless romantic was definitely one of them.

I sat back on the wooden bench, cast a smile to each of Afsaneh’s children, and took a moment to reflect.

How far these two people in front of me had come.  Back from the brink of death and the depths of despair, to find each other again.  If any one of a million things had gone differently, they would never have reached this point.  Their journey was a bittersweet thing.

“My love is deep as the road is long,” Afsaneh began.  Her vows flowed like the lyrics of a song that I had never heard, but was somehow already my favorite.  Halfway through her confession, a breeze blew across the basin, swooping Pippa’s cream-colored skirt and stealing Affie’s scrap of notepaper.  We watched as it was carried along with pink and white blossoms.  Some of the guests reached up, trying to intercept it, but it drifted high and then down into the water where it floated away.

For a moment, I was afraid that Affie would be embarrassed, or unable to continue.  But instead she simply looked into Pippa’s eyes and sighed.  Pippa giggled, shrugged, and then threw her own note paper over her shoulder in solidarity. 

“I think…” Pippa said, turning to the officiant, “We’ve already been through everything that needs to be said.”

He nodded approvingly, directed an exchange of rings, and pronounced them married. 

Their first kiss was as tender and passionate as the one I had witnessed in my quarters a few months before.  The sight was something so deeply intimate that I will never forget it, though I couldn’t do the moment justice if I’d tried to put it into words.

The newlyweds retreated down their makeshift, green-grass aisle, hanging on each other and laughing like schoolgirls without a care in the world.  Each guest stood to congratulate them in turn.  When they reached my bench, Affie broke away from her wife to hug me and whisper another ‘thank you’ in my ear. 

If there was one thing I learned from Afsaneh and Pippa, it’s that nobody really knows how a love story will end.  Even when we are convinced our happiest days are behind us, the universe generally has other things in mind.

I no longer feared that each day would be my last.  And as for my friends, well, the best part of their life together was just beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't.... I just COULDN'T resist giving them a happy ending. I'm sorry. I'm not sorry. I'll pay for the cavities, I don't care. Thank you for reading!


End file.
